Windchimes

la vie est trop courte

Life is too short, too translate. And I am s' drunk. It's friday night. A whole week of scholarship after a long, lazy summer. I needed a drink. or two, or three. Lotsa rum. And all i can think about is sex. History class was fun. I asked the prof whatever happened to Bloody Mary. He said she died of natural causes after a series of false pregnancies. He'd said before that her husband, a prince of Spain, didn't like her very much, never came around. He must've thought, "five immaculate conceptions, else the holy woman's an adulteress. I wanted nothing to do with her production of an heir or heiress." I bet he found other women to have fun with. People are funny, aren't they? They justify what they want with whatever's available. Mary burnt a bunch of protestants, had to justify it somehow. Had to believe in her own divinity. Her own status as an elected representative of the holy. Doesn't seem such a big leap from there to believing herself a holy mother.

Me, I just believe that life is too short. Somewhere, I read, "the stomach for food, food for the stomach" but niether exists in the afterlife. I've extended that, mentally, to sensual pleasure. Too sensually pleasurable. Can't be holy, it's of the flesh. Flesh, nerves, blood and bone. Deny yourself that pleasure and inherit heaven, where there is no such pleasure. Something better, if you can believe it. If you can imagine it. Have I that good an imagination? Oh, but the human mind can't imagine what waits, we're told.

This human mind can imagine what it has experienced. And I don't seem to be alone. Just finished watching parts of a movie (I'll admiit to finishing a Twain novel between scenes) about a war between vampires and werewolves (Underworld). If those people couldn't imagine vampires and werewolves warring against each other with anything other than plain, ordinary, humanly developped guns and humanly technologically advanced bullets, how'm I supposed to think of something more pleasurable than sex?

That reminds me, I read about a witchcraft trial in 15th century France. Some commentaries about how women are so proned to enjoy sex that it should surprise no one that Satan would use it to entice them to his camp. Haha. Why did these guys have such a hard time admitting they were proned to enjoy sex just as much? Flesh, nerves, blood and bone. Created by a creator. It's a sin to enjoy sex?

Hooey, phooey and bullshit.

Ok, I'll admit to being a little incapacitated as I write this entry. Doesn't change my opinion though, just makes me bolder about stating it. I'll have time to be sorry later.

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

J.H. Larrew
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